


Favor

by orchidbreezefc



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Bathing/Washing, M/M, Tail Kink, and then sexual nudity, non-sexual nudity, you know how it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2019-06-13 14:54:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15367083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orchidbreezefc/pseuds/orchidbreezefc
Summary: Jester bribes Mollymauk to help with the Stinky Caleb Problem. The problem with that is that Molly's brain registers the concept of nudity and the flirt switch gets tripped. (It's an old habit. He just likes seeing people squirm.)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> How is 26-7 treating everyone? Bad? Me too! But I've been planning this since I got to episode 5 and not even God themself can stop me from planning ill-advised longform fic.
> 
> I started out not knowing enough about medieval bathing to write this and then did research. Now I know too much about medieval bathing, not only as the person writing this but as a person in general. 
> 
> Includes tiefling hooves, because my dear friend Appi who buoyed me through my listen-through (I caught up just yesterday in time for 27's stream!) told me I should, and therefore I had to.
> 
> Warnings for spoilers for Molly's backstory, canon-typical self-harm, and cat facts you never knew you didn't want to know.

"Yasha and Beau and I were thinking," Jester says by way of greeting, planting her ass on the table next to Molly and swishing her tail in the air.

"Were you?" Molly says, finishing his drink and gesturing for another. This promises to be interesting, if it's something the three women came up with together. "All of you in agreement?"

"Fjord too, I'm sure, if we asked him. Really anybody in the world with all their senses working would agree on this one," she says sagely.

"Seems too broad to be really useful. Plus there's how many million people in Wildemount, I doubt you could get them all to agree on anything."

Jester shakes her head and leans in earnestly. "No, it's really, seriously factual. And if everyone can agree on what it is--it's a big, big problem, you know--then if you do something about it, it's like a public service!"

Molly can tell he's being buttered up for something, but just then his next ale arrives, so he's not going anywhere. Jester can beat around her pretty little raspberry bush all she wants. "Sure, if it's a monster bothering everyone and they all need rid of it or something."

"Exactly! It's exactly like that, Molly, thank you." She watches Molly raise his eyebrows expectantly and her patience with her own dillydallying seems to collapse in on itself. "It's Caleb," she says.

Now there's something unexpected. "Caleb," Molly repeats. "Just what about Caleb is comparable to a monster? What about Caleb would be a 'public service' to get rid of?"

"His _smell_ ," Jester says, her voice emphatic from either disgust or impatience with having to state the obvious.

Maybe less unexpected than originally thought. "Forget all the people in Wildemount, you couldn't get everyone in the party to agree to that," Molly says, turning back away from her and to his drink. "Or everyone in this conversation. I think Caleb's fine."

Jester wrinkles her nose. "I don't know how you think that, but think of it this way: do it for the rest of us! Take one for the team!"

"What exactly is the 'it' I'm doing?" Molly asks suspiciously.

"Oh, gosh, I got ahead of myself, sorry. I meant you need to wash him."

Molly stares up at her. "How do you figure?"

Jester waves her hands in the air. "Living with that is driving me crazy! And Yasha and Beau agreed. So it's up to you. Do a public service! Throw yourself on the Widogast stink bomb!"

Molly sighs and takes another deep drink, realizing he's still too sober for this. "Right," he says, wiping his mouth, "and you volunteered the person you know doesn't care for the job. Flawless plan."

Jester puffs her cheeks. "We didn't have much of a choice, Molly! There are three men in our party and one of them _is_ Caleb!"

"So me as opposed to Fjord? What did you do, flip a coin?"

"We had reasons!" she protests. "Like... like... you love baths!"

"In a bathhouse as a bonding experience, not in a wash basin with who knows what sort of shite in there." Molly shudders. Who does she think he is?

"You could push him into the river!"

"A nice way to make him hate me and to freeze both our arses off this time of year. Besides, a wet Caleb doesn't mean a clean Caleb. Try again."

Jester's tail thwaps irritably on the table she's sitting on. "Ask the innkeeper to change the water first!" When Molly is unmoved, she switches tack. "Pretty please, Molly? For me?"

Molly frowns at Jester's best cute face for as long as he can bear, but he's always been soft for adorable tiefling girls. He sighs and breaks eye contact, waves his hand for another drink and pats her knee. "Ask me again after a few more of these. And you better have a bribe ready."  
\---  
"Hey, Caleb!" Molly discovers him mid-book, muttering to himself and chewing the end of his much-abused pen, unaware of the ink splatters he's getting on his cheek. Probably unconcerned with them as long as his spell-copying paper is pristine. It's bolstering, the thought that Jester may have a point, the thought of Molly rubbing the ink off Caleb's cheek with his own thumb. 

Caleb glances up briefly. "Mollymauk." Then he looks up again, having apparently seen something in his first glance that told him to look again.

"You've been at that too long," Molly declares, a little stiff, a little rehearsed. He's either not as good an actor as he likes to think or his heart's not in it. "How about a warm bath to relax?"

"Is that an order?" Caleb asks. If it's a joke, the delivery falls flat.

"It's an invitation! I had the innkeeper change the water specifically for us. Cost me two silver, I figure between the two of us we'll get our money's worth."

Caleb twirls his quill back and forth between his fingers. "I am not going to pay you for the opportunity to bathe with you."

"No need. I'm feeling generous." Molly had considered saying Caleb would owe him a favor, but that would just make him harder to convince.

Not that he needed the extra challenge. "Well, no thank you, regardless," Caleb says, picking up his book again.

"I'm not taking no for an answer," Molly warns. Caleb frowns, suspicion creeping into his body language. That may have been too much. 

"You're awfully insistent on a dip for fun," Caleb says, lowering the pen from his mouth. He looks Molly up and down, and not in the fun way. "Why are you really asking? Is Yasha going to go through my clothes once I am out of them?"

"No! No, it's just. Look." Molly sighs, running a hand back through his hair. "You just really need a bath."

As soon as the words are out of Molly's mouth, Caleb looks even more hunted than Molly had felt talking to Jester. "I thought you and Nott were the ones who were the most accepting of--this--of me, this way. The way I want to look."

Caleb's face is heartbreaking, and Molly's first instinct is to abdicate responsibility. "Jester put me up to it. She gave me six gold and two of her best rings."

The pen goes back between Caleb's lips. "Since when do you care about money?"

"She practically foisted it on me. Also, I was gently sauced at that point. I would like to keep the rings, though, so actually, you'd be doing me a favor, if you think about it."

Caleb taps his pen against his frowning mouth. "Enough of a favor to give the six gold to me? I am perpetually broke."

"Absolutely, big ink-and-paper spender," says Molly, grinning. "Pleasure doing business with you."  
\---  
After that, things go perfectly smoothly, other than running into Nott on the way to the washroom and having to spend five minutes reassuring her that clean or not, Caleb will always be the same Caleb, and will love her just the same. Still, Molly ends up in the washroom with a willing, only-lightly-coerced Caleb, which is a level of success he had no reason to expect.

Caleb undresses at a cautious, glacial pace, which is fine by Molly because it gives him time to remove his mass amounts of jewellery and accoutrements. "Maybe we should have done a bathhouse," Molly says when they finish, going to inspect the wash basin. It's smaller than he had hoped.

"I am fine with just the two of us," Caleb says, in a tense tone that suggests he'd rather not be naked with even one other person, or at all. He doesn't seem to know what to do with his hands. 

Molly tests the water with one hoof. It's pleasantly warm, so he climbs in. Caleb, after meeting Molly's expectant gaze, reluctantly follows suit at the opposite end.

It's a tight fit. Their legs stretch into each other's space and their knees knock together when they move. "Imagine if we were a couple of orcs," Molly says, shaking his head and pulling the bucket used to fill the basin up into the bath. "This would be impossible."

"Or a couple of Yashas," Caleb agrees. Molly offers the bucket handle to Caleb, who looks mistrustfully at it. Molly sighs and scoops up some water, then curls a hand around Caleb's neck and pulls him in enough to pour it over his head. "We're here to bathe, remember?" He drowns Caleb's response in a second bucketful, just to be sure.

Molly lathers up his own hands as Caleb spits out the water that had gotten into his mouth and gives Molly the stink eye. Ignoring this, Molly hands Caleb the soap, then pulls Caleb's head close again to begin washing his hair.

Caleb makes a rudimentary effort to wash himself using the soap, but doesn't quite manage it hunched over to give Molly access to his head. He puts the soap on the floor instead and surrenders to the scrubbing. "I'm not going to lie, the claws make me pretty nervous."

"Then I imagine you'll be pretty damn worried about the teeth," Molly says. 

"Why would the teeth be--I mean--"

"Nothing. Just messing with you. Clipped the important claws this morning anyway." Molly tips the bucket back over Caleb's head and leans over him to lather his hands again for a second pass. "As for the rest, don't worry. I've been working with them for--well, presumably my whole life. I only scratch in fights and under special request."

At least that one doesn't go over Caleb's head. He rolls his eyes, but blushes anyway. Then he goes quiet, apparently thinking something over, as Molly finishes his hair. 

Caleb's too deep in thought to say anything about Molly immediately transitioning into washing his face and neck, like that he can do the rest himself, or that for that matter he probably could have done the hair on his own. In fact, he closes his eyes and tilts his face up into Molly's hands as Molly rubs the ink stains away with his thumb.

"Copper for your thoughts?" Molly finds he has to ask once he's washed away the soap, loath though he is to break the spell of this pliant, willing Caleb.

"I am just still thinking of how much they might hurt. The claws, I mean," Caleb says faintly. Molly isn't sure he believes it--certainly not that that's all there is to it--but he finds Caleb hard to read at the moment.

Molly's hands are drying from the soap, and none of it for himself, but he wants to see how much Caleb intends to let him wash as he travels down to his shoulders. "Likely worse for you. Your skin is probably a bit sensitive from losing that dirt coating." He runs the tips of his thumb claws very gently down Caleb's sides. Caleb nearly jumps out of his skin.

"That! That is why I'm nervous!"

"Don't worry," Molly says, rubbing Caleb's shoulder. "I won't hurt you. Just tease you a bit."

Caleb takes on an odd expression for a moment after that. Molly's starting to wonder. Maybe he really was....

Caleb is letting Molly work toward his navel, unbelievably, but it seems he's just distracted again. He's staring at him, but not quite at his face. Molly frowns and brings a hand to his own head, then realizes Caleb's staring at his horns. 

He grins. "Yes, the horn piercings are extremely sexy. No, not a tiefling erogenous zone. Common misconception."

Caleb jolts at being caught, then blushes again, becoming visibly irritated. "I was just--habit from Nott. I was wondering how much they would go for."

"Virtually worthless, to a one!" Molly says cheerily.

"I might have guessed," Caleb says, allowing Molly to pick up his arms to wash.

"I like baubles and filigree and the like, nobody can tell the difference anyway. No one's exactly taking a jeweller's glass to my head."

"Well, you certainly have a lot of space up there to work with," says Caleb. There's little of him still to clean above water.

"Why, thank you!" Molly has no idea if Caleb knows horn size is a major indicator of tiefling attractiveness, but he'll take the compliment regardless. "Shame you've got none yourself," he muses, running a hand past where they would be on Caleb's head. "How'd you like me to give you a piercing somewhere else?"

"Can you actually pierce someone?"

"...I'm really good with a scimitar," Molly offers.

Caleb laughs at this, actually laughs, and pushes Molly's shoulder. It's like talking to a real person and not an anxious puddle of goo. So Molly keeps going: "And we've got a cleric! So even if I mess up it's fine!"

"Absolutely fucking not," Caleb says, but he's smiling. It transforms his face into something wonderful and new.

"You're right. You're much too squishy, you might bleed out and die before I get you to her."

Caleb laughs again. Molly can't bear to say he's done, so he decides to wash Caleb's back while facing him by reaching around him. It's an awkward setup and Molly is leaning in very much into Caleb's space, but Caleb says nothing about it, once more apparently deep in thought.

"You really like having those things, don't you?" he says at length. At Molly's inquisitive noise, Caleb clarifies, "The tattoos, and such. You don't strike me as vain, particularly, but you take care of them. I noticed you don't have any scars there." Caleb's getting a close-up look, so it's not a surprise he would notice.

"Of course not. They took so many hours." When Molly settles back, Caleb is squinting doubtfully, so he admits, "And maybe I'm a little protective of having some part of this body that's mine."

Caleb gives him a look that's more searching than Molly prefers to receive, so he continues, "And anyway, I don't cut my face, either. Are you sure I'm not vain?"

"I mean, you have reason to be." Caleb seems as surprised as Mollymauk when the words are out of his mouth. "I just mean, uh, the--the tattoos are very artistic, you know; you've made your whole body an art piece." Now Caleb seems entirely ready to drown himself. 

Molly keeps his face carefully controlled. "Why thank you, mister Caleb. Between that and commenting on my horn size..." Caleb turns bright red. So apparently he _was_ aware of that implication. "Well, at any rate, I think I've washed you all I can, provided you have any concerns whatsoever about decency."

Caleb licks his lips. "Maybe less than previously."

Molly didn't expect that answer, but he wouldn't be Mollymauk Tealeaf if he didn't take the cue. He leans back in to where he was when he washed Caleb's back, resting one arm on the back of the wash basin. He cradles Caleb's face in his other hand. "In that case, maybe I should do a more thorough job."

"Maybe so," Caleb breathes, his blue eyes dark and threatening to fall closed. "Maybe--you should."

Molly pauses to feel Caleb's stubble on his palm and take in his expression. He tastes the anticipation and tension in the air and in Caleb's slightly trembling body. It's a moment of divinity. He does his best to memorize this feeling, one of the few memories he has to call his own.

"Mollymauk," Caleb says warningly. Molly lets the magic in his hands go, acting in the blind faith that he's trading it for a different kind of enchantment by closing his eyes and kissing him.

As it turns out, he is. Even at the outset, the contact is passionate and exciting. It sends sparks down Molly's spine, a sensation almost drowned out by the warmth spreading across his skin from Caleb's fingers clutching at his back. Molly shifts to open their mouths at their connection point--and Caleb pulls back. "Augh!"

"What?" Molly demands. He has no idea what about _that_ experience could possibly have warranted an 'augh'.

Caleb squirms for a moment, then comes to rest. "It is--nothing. Entschuldigung. We can continue now." He reaches for Molly, but Molly shakes his head.

"No, this should be good. I want to hear it."

Caleb shifts to a more defensive stance and explains reluctantly. "Ah... well... I didn't grow up around tieflings, I'm not terribly familiar..."

Molly snorts. "Well, whatever it is, let me get ahead of your fears and say yes, you are a racist."

"Oh, shut it," says Caleb, relaxing a fraction at the joke.

"No, but really."

Caleb fidgets under Molly. "...Your tongue. It's forked."

Molly blinks. Whatever he expected, it wasn't that, especially since it involves Caleb being unobservant. "Didn't you know that? If not from experience, from your books? Hell, just from being around a couple tieflings day in and day out you should have noticed."

"In theory it is very different from in--in practice."

Molly laughs and rearranges himself to more comfortably sit in Caleb's space, wrapping his arm around his waist. "You'll get used to it." He pauses just long enough to drink in the resulting deep blush on Caleb's face before kissing him again.

Caleb is still more tense than Molly would prefer, but Molly's not surprised. As much as he would have liked Caleb to immediately melt into him, he imagines Caleb doesn't melt anything more than monster faces. 

But Molly is a patient man, and as experienced as one could reasonably expect an amnesiac carnie to be. He keeps kissing Caleb and stroking his jaw down to his shoulder and back. Caleb breathes into him like a marathon runner desperate for a real breath of air but unwilling to stop and take one. Molly murmurs, "Relax, love, it's all right."

Caleb takes a deep shuddering breath and Molly also breathes deeply as a guide, in and out. If Caleb has any methods of controlling anxiety he has never used them to any success as long as Molly has known him, but Molly keeps breathing and stays solid above him and that seems to do the trick. Caleb finally nods and reaches back for him, ghosting a hand tremulously up toward Molly's hair but hesitating at his horns.

"You can touch," Molly says. "Some tieflings mind, but I don't." He winks. "Not with someone good-looking, anyway."

Caleb turns pink but strokes down the curve of Molly's horn. Molly's chest swells with something warm and pleasant as Caleb leans intently in to examine his horns more closely. Then his focus and hands drift down to Molly's tattoos. Molly wants to kiss him again, but figures that after rubbing Caleb down, it's only fair to afford him a moment of exploration in return.

"These must have hurt so much," Caleb says softly. "I can't believe you'd do that to yourself."

"The scars or the tattoos?" Molly asks as Caleb's hand skims across both.

"Either one. Your pain tolerance..." There's envy and something hard to place in Caleb's voice.

"Yeah, well. I'd say you get used to it, but pain isn't like that. It's more that it's worth going through for things that are important to me."

Caleb doesn't ask something derisive along the lines of 'like looking pretty?' He draws his hand down Molly's arm, tracing the snake, and then entwines his fingers with Molly's. Molly watches his fingers cover the eye of the snake, then Caleb's mouth is on his.

If Caleb is not relaxed, per se, he is at least more physically involved in the kissing this time. He leans up into Molly's space, his free hand a bit less stiff and more willing to wander. He runs his fingers through Molly's hair, traces his spine, and then his hand travels all the way down Molly's back to his tail. Molly jerks at the touch enough to break contact, catching Caleb off guard. "Mm, all right, now _that_ is a little sensitive--" 

Caleb's surprised face turns to incredulity. "You acted shitty about the horns not being erogenous zones, and now you're telling me the _tail_ \--"

"It's not so weird--come on, you've got a cat," Molly says defensively.

"What? What does Frumpkin have to do with anything?"

"You've never scratched him at the base of the tail? They love it, stick their arses right up to be fucked--"

Caleb's expression is now outright horrified. "That is _not_ why they do that--"

"Oh yes it is. I thought you would know, with all those books you've constantly got your nose in. It's--mmm--" Caleb has started stroking the base of his tail with purpose. "One hundred per ce-ent true."

"I was hoping that would shut you up," Caleb mutters.

Molly arches his back. "Evil--that's evil and devious and h-horrible, but you are proving my point."

Caleb shakes his head and says something too quiet for Molly to fully hear along the lines of 'shut you up anyway' before kissing him again. Molly can't help being impressed, as well as aroused.

And on that note... he hates how much they have had to part to talk, but needs must. He should at least exchange a couple words to get a go-ahead, and then they can talk as little as they like.

"Darling," he says, pulling away again. Caleb seems to agree with the annoyance at all the talking, judging by his frustrated growl that does absolutely nothing to quell the flame in Molly's belly. "You're going to need to assume responsibility for this in a moment."

"Responsibility? Do you want me to make an honest man out of you?"

"It's more that you'll need to fuck me soon," Molly says.

Caleb must have known this was coming, but his confidence fizzles. "Ah. Well--that is--you'd really want to fuck me here? Here? Me?"

"Of course. We've already muddied up the water terribly with your muck anyway."

"I haven't--" Caleb shakes his head. "I wasn't planning to--it would be different if I could, um, undress you, go slow, but everything is out in the open, as it were, all at once, and I--"

Molly can tell what he's getting at, and nods, scrubs his hand through Caleb's hair. "Maybe some other time, if you're not comfortable. I for one enjoyed it, so if you ever care to have another go..." He kisses Caleb just suggestively enough, and relishes how longingly Caleb leans into it. 

Then Molly crawls back out of his space, stands up, and stretches. "I'll leave you to finish washing up, all right? You'd better do it, if only for Jester." Caleb nods, his face unreadable.

As Molly towels off, Caleb sinks back down into the water, reluctantly picking up the soap. Molly's already dressed and bedecked in jewellery by the time Caleb speaks. "You know, between the horns and the forked tongue and the tail, today has been a learning experience for me." Molly's surprised that's what Caleb came up with after all that time thinking. Well, he must think it's important somehow, so Molly doesn't question it.

"Who says books are the best way to learn? You should try to pick up some different teachings in all the smut shop visits--oh, that reminds me." Molly rifles through his coat pocket, pulls out a few coins, and waves them at Caleb with a grin. "Best six gold I ever spent." He places the money on top of Caleb's coat, blows him a kiss, and is gone.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm not really into Critical Role anymore, and haven't been in a while. Firstly, sorry if any of this has been Jossed, and secondly, though I did have more ideas for this, I'm ending it here. I am glad I managed to finish this much, though! Thank you all for the support!
> 
> Special thanks to Domi for spurring me to finally wrap this up with her great artwork. Find it [link: [here](http://domirine.tumblr.com/)]!

By the time Molly leaves, Caleb has already vowed to find some mud to smear himself with in the next day or two. He knows, therefore, that washing himself is an exercise in futility. Still, he was paid to do it, and it will make Jester and Molly happy for that day or two. And he finds himself suddenly invested in the idea of putting Molly in a good mood.

Caleb sighs and sinks into the water, examining the soap. "Alles gut?" he asks it.

Of course everything is good. Surely. How could it not be? That experience was wonderful; he loved every minute of it. He didn't do anything he was uncomfortable with, and he left open the opportunity to take things slow, should they decide to do anything at all, which he's not sure Molly would want to do at any given point anyway, so really it's a good idea if he doesn't look desperate or anything.

Oh, gods.

Caleb wants to put his head between his knees, but that would mean a faceful of water, so he just rocks himself and tries to breathe. He thoroughly made out with and felt up the naked body of a party member; not just another living, breathing person, but a _party member_. Someone he lives with and sees every day. Someone, it is much too late to deny, he has been desperately attracted to for a long time.

And he enjoyed it. He enjoyed it, and Molly enjoyed it too--he said so in no uncertain terms--and gods help him, Caleb wants to do it again. He wants to do it even more than he wants to take Nott and run, which at this moment has begun to seem like the smart thing to do.

Caleb stays there for much too long under the pretense of washing more thoroughly than he actually is. He alternately tries to talk himself out of leaving, and then out of staying, not sure which is the sensible part of his brain talking. He goes back and forth until he feels sick. Maybe he should consult Nott. Maybe he should never tell a single soul and take her before she finds out from Molly.

No. Wait. This is Mollymauk he's talking about. Molly is an asshole, as they all are, but not in such a way that he would violate any boundaries; he has certainly proven that, just in the past hour. If he asked, Mollymauk would be certain to keep it quiet. Caleb has to be realistic about the fact that Molly is a considerate and conscientious individual, at least. The fact that Caleb has probably kicked off what will be the disastrous end of their party dynamic notwithstanding.

His mind is going in circles, and his body is as clean as he intends to make it, so there's nothing for it but to go to bed early. If he is lucky, his prediction will be correct: Mollymauk will have failed to tell anyone without Caleb's permission.

 _Maybe some other time,_ Molly had said.

Caleb dresses himself and checks all his component pouches, just in case Molly had been lying about Yasha. Everything is still there. It's silly, but Molly failing to betray him on this front makes him feel better. Like if he can be trusted not to rifle through Caleb's belongings, he can be trusted to keep things quiet without being told.

When Caleb enters his room, Nott is sleeping spread-eagle on her bed, snoring louder than one might expect her tiny frame capable of. The normalcy of it is comforting. Caleb places silver thread around their room but decides against spending more time tonight transcribing spells. He divests himself of his outermost clothes again to sleep--what a chore, dressing and undressing so often--and climbs into bed.

It's about two minutes before Caleb realizes he has made a terrible mistake.

How could he have refused Molly? What kind of idiot is he? He had wanted it so badly. He wants it so badly _now_. Caleb spurned Molly's advance, and now what is he going to do? Come back with his tail between his legs and beg to be fucked? Say 'Hallo, I was hoping to request that you keep our earlier tryst under wraps, as it were, and also, that you please fuck my brains out immediately'?

...It's not a terrible plan.

\--

Caleb is already awake when he feels the tingle in the back of his head that signifies that the alarm thread he placed outside Molly and Fjord's door has broken. He pushes the covers off himself and rushes to the door, careful not to wake Nott. He leaves off his boots, coats, and scarf, bursting out into the hallway in the clothes he slept in.

Caleb is lucky enough to find himself face-to-face not with Fjord, but with Molly himself. Molly appears surprised at Caleb's violently sudden appearance, but then his scarlet eyes flash in some kind of conspiratorial recognition. "Hello, mister Caleb," he says in a low, silky tone, and if Caleb had been able for one moment to forget his mission, that voice would have reminded him.

As it is, he grabs Molly firmly by the sleeve of his ridiculous doublet and drags him to what could generously be described as an alcove in the hallway. It's really more of a construction error, but it's the most private area he had managed to find during his reconnaissance last night, and his purposes hardly require somewhere spacious.

"Caleb?" Molly asks, as if it's somehow possible he doesn't know where this is fucking going. He loses half a gasp of breath as Caleb pins him up against the wall by the lapels of his obnoxious coat.

"I am desperately horny, and need you to get me off please, in any way you would like," Caleb says. He keeps such strenuous control of his voice that it nearly squeaks, like a vise twisted too tight. Still, he doesn't trip on his words and fuck himself, even if it does come out all in a rush.

Molly's face is a picture of shock, so Caleb feels compelled to explain, at the risk of said tripping and fucking. "I could hardly sleep. When I could, I woke up fucking panting for it. I have wanted you for a long time, you know, and I thought that I could handle it, kissing you, but I--I couldn't. I spent all night wrapped in fantasies of you on my cock."

Molly still says nothing, eyes wide, and with a horror as slow and heavy as the molasses in his coat, Caleb realizes he has ruined everything. "Oh," he says. "You don't want to." He steps back out of Molly's space, nodding to himself. "Ja. Of course. I was being too forward, this was a stupid idea--"

He is leaving, already with plans in his head to take Nott and finally get away from this freakshow once and for all, when he realizes Molly has caught his wrist. "No," Molly says, holding fast against Caleb's half-annoyed, half-panicked attempt to tug it away. "No, actually, I was just thinking I was impressed. Didn't think you had it in you. You know, social butterfly that you aren't, thought you'd sooner wank yourself sore than ask someone for a roll in the hay."

Caleb blinks. "I would," his mouth says, too automatic to be anything but entirely honest. "But I share a room with Nott."

Molly laughs, and the sound shatters some barrier that Caleb had thrown up around his mind and floods the inside of it with warmth. He goes willingly but cautiously as Molly coaxes him back into his arms.

"I think it's a fantastic idea. Getting you off. I'm certain you need it, if it's driven you to this." Molly tilts his head, eyes sparkling and lips curving up enchantingly. "And I told you I'm happy to do it. I just thought maybe we would make it to breakfast first."

Caleb has to reassess everything now. Molly had not rejected him after all. Molly had not even said 'maybe later' or suggested they go slow. He's here, now, acquiescing to Caleb's request with not only willingness but a mix of delight and fucking _hunger_ on his face, and oh _gods_.

"All right, love?" Molly asks softly, hand rubbing reassuring circles on Caleb's elbow.

Caleb does not, emphatically does not, want to ruin this. He does not even want to give Mollymauk time to change his mind. "Perfectly," he says, straightening his spine to trick his brain into believing that the panic is gone. "Yes. Please, Mollymauk. I would like to do this."

Molly cups Caleb's face and his eyelids flutter closed in response, whether from anticipating a kiss or from sheer sensation. Molly hums thoughtfully. "So you definitely want me to make love to you here. Here. Me."

"Make love? Not at all," Caleb says, trying to keep his voice steady despite shaking all over. "A quick fuck would very much suffice."

Molly laughs again, but it's low and soft, a controlled chuckle and not a raucous expression of amusement. The sound of it swirls down Caleb's spine. "If you like. Just between you and me, I did figure something like this might end up happening," he says confidentially, and removes his hand from Caleb's face to show him his claws. True to his word yesterday, he has clipped them, but--

Caleb blinks. "You only clipped two."

Molly frowns. "What, you think I should have gone for three?"

Caleb realizes what he's getting at, and has the subsequent realization that Molly was prepared, even yesterday, specifically for this sort of event. He's filled with a whirling mix of embarrassment and even intenser arousal than the baseline he's been suffering since last night. Perplexing even himself, he begins to laugh.

"Gods," he wheezes, rubbing the cheek Molly is not still holding. "Gods, you--you were _ready_ for me to do this. Even before the bath ever started, you were expecting to bed me."

Molly grins. "Call it a premonition. I do tell fortunes for a living."

Caleb stares at the claws and tries to assimilate the information gleaned from them. "So you're thinking we should... go all the way." He steals a glance at Molly's face. "As it were."

"What, here? And use spit for lube? I may have horns, but I'm not a monster. Well, actually," Molly adds upon a moment of reflection, "I might be able to tough through it, but I don't know about you, squishy wizard."

"I have oil in my coat--" That damn coat, Caleb should have taken it--"but I honestly cannot wait that long."

"Long enough to get it or long enough to use it?"

"Either one," Caleb murmurs, finding his eyes on Molly's lips, on the gold ring protruding from the bottom one.

"Then, dear, I'm afraid we'll have to do something else, if that's all right."

"I cannot say I am complaining about anything but the fact that we are still talking," Caleb says, less evenly than he would like, and Molly finally, blessedly kisses him.

Caleb's arms wind around Molly's shoulders while Molly's hand shifts on his jaw, less gently caressing and more firmly guiding. Gods, but Molly's good at this. Caleb is prepared for the forked tongue now, and licks past it toward the tongue piercing. He had been nervous about that too, last time, but now is too out of his head with need to be self-conscious.

His hands slide inside Molly's coat, which Molly shrugs off and to the floor in response, and Caleb keeps going. He pushes his hands under Molly's doublet and shirt, and his fingertips press stripes up his scarred torso. He bites at Molly's lip, perhaps a little harder than he should, then swipes his tongue over the spot and licks at his lip ring.

"Hold on a moment," Molly gasps, pulling back just enough to get his hands between them. "Let me just--" He rubs a thumb over Caleb's nipple and tilts his head at Caleb's quiet groan, like a doctor trying to diagnose an ailment. Molly's other hand goes down to ghost over Caleb's already aching erection and Caleb groans louder. He's aware Molly is just testing the waters, and that's fair enough, but it's also maddening.

Molly laughs. "You're serious," he says. Both the sound and the sentence come out breathless. It would be too much to imagine that it's because Molly is so into this, into Caleb, that he's winded from the strength of it. More likely it's from the lack of air.

"Of course I am," Caleb says irritably. He leans in, prepared to kiss him again the moment Molly's done saying whatever damn nonsense he had interrupted this for.

Molly grins. "Seems like you're already fit to burst--I just wanted to ask if you think you can go twice, make this more interesting?"

"There is only one way to find out," Caleb says, and, unable to wait any longer, presses his mouth to Molly's.

Molly lets a chuckle escape, perhaps entertained by Caleb's comment or his bare lust, but all amusement is quickly forgotten as Caleb crashes into him like a wave. It's impossible to contain the force of how much he wants Molly. His relative inexperience and awkward, fumbling hands are compensated for by his conviction. He's gone past anxiety and into the blind confidence of the desperate.

For his part, Molly does what he can to stretch things out, but there's only so much he can do short of being an enormous fucking tease. Well, it's hardly short of it if that's exactly what he is. He doesn't touch Caleb at all, doesn't even offer his thigh for Caleb to rut against--which, although not an ideal solution, would have sufficed.

He does, however, kiss Caleb as well as Caleb gives, which is a surprise in itself, because Caleb thought his intensity would be hard to match. But Molly meets him inch for inch, slides his hands up under his shirt in return. His tiefling skin is burning hot, fuck, and Caleb presses into it everywhere he can manage.

"Molly _mauk_ ," Caleb whines. "You said you would--if I come without you it doesn't, fuck, doesn't q-qualify as--uh--"

"All right," Molly laughs, but his voice is--dare Caleb say, broken? He goes about undoing the laces of Caleb's pants, and Caleb holds his breath and squeezes his eyes shut to keep himself from the edge just from fucking that.

But then Mollymauk pulls out his dick and gives it an experimental stroke, and it's all over.

Caleb collapses in relief after his orgasm, shaking from head to toe. Molly supports him against his chest. "Gods," Caleb hears Molly's awed voice say, as if from underwater. "Caleb, you _really_ must have--unless your stamina is just this bad--"

"I am very squishy," Caleb jokes weakly, and he looks up from Molly's lashing tail to his blooming smile. It's radiant on his beautiful face.

"You know, I've wanted you since the moment I saw you." The words spill out from Caleb, soft and dreamy, before his brain can process what he's said.

Molly strokes Caleb's hair and helps him up from his boneless slouch. "The moment I saw you, I thought you were disgusting." He grins. "But you've grown on me."

Caleb doesn't manage a full frown, just a slight unhappy tug at his mouth. "You've gotten attached," he mumbles, "but I'm sure I am still deeply unattractive otherwise." It's different for Mollymauk, who is gorgeous. Gods, he's so beautiful it hurts to look at him, even past the usual discomfort of eye contact.

"Fuck no, I'm sorry. That was a joke, love, I didn't mean it," Molly says, pulling Caleb close again. He begins to mouth at his jaw, making Caleb's fading blush return. "Gods, no, you are so hot."

Wheels turn in Caleb's head, searching for an explanation. "You think I clean up nicely, then?" he attempts.

"Well--of course, yes--" Molly is murmuring against Caleb's throat, which on top of the hard-to-believe quality of his words makes things very hard to process, let alone fully accept. "But you were damn sexy when you were filthy as all hell. It's just now I won't have grime in my mouth when I suck your cock."

This throws Caleb completely off track. "When you--is that on the itinerary, then?"

Molly pulls off to wink. "Do you want it to be?"

"Desperately," Caleb half wheezes. His mouth is so far ahead of him, sometimes. Too truthful. But it seems to be the response Molly was hoping for, or even better, judging by the delighted surprise on his face.

"But for now, how were you intending for my half of this experience to go?" Molly asks in a resonant tone. "Sorry, that sounded accusatory, or greedy, I'm just _very_ \--I would appreciate some help here, but if you aren't ready for that yet, that's fine, I could always--"

"Oh hell, Mollymauk," Caleb hisses, and kisses him again just to stop him being so damn _gentle_. He's so fucking considerate it's difficult to bear. "Yes," he says against Molly's mouth, perhaps an unwise use of the breath he can gather between kisses. "However you want it." He realizes as soon as he says it that he probably shouldn't write checks his ass may not be able to cash. Yet he can't bring himself to backpedal, not with the amazement in Molly's face and body, not with him holding Caleb like he can't believe he's real.

"I," Molly says. His tail lashes furiously, nearly smacking against the wall. "Fuck, Caleb."

"That?" Caleb asks, pointing at said tail. He tries not to think about how wrecked and ineloquent the usually composed and talkative Mollymauk has become, or how it is Caleb's doing, somehow. "You like your tail rubbed, ja?"

As if it can hear, the tail freezes, then cuts an even wilder slash through the air. "You kinky bastard," Molly says in wonder. He starts hurriedly fumbling with the laces of his own pants and reaches around himself to unsnap the button above the hole for his tail. "I don't fucking deserve you, dear, honestly--"

"Arguable," Caleb disagrees, and kisses Molly to prevent him from starting in on something sweet and painful about how Caleb is better than he really is. Molly still seems like he's considering it, so Caleb reaches around him and strokes down his spine to his tail, hard.

Molly's knees buckle a bit. The tail may normally serve as a balancing force, but in response to being touched it spasms and Molly stumbles a step, against Caleb, who has to half catch him.

"Fuck," he mutters against Caleb's shoulder. "Do that again." His tail snakes up Caleb's arm and curls around it to keep him from pulling away, not that Caleb has a damn thought of the sort in his head. Not when Molly is using that husky, needy voice.

So Caleb does it again. And again. His hand curls a loose fist around Molly's tail, stroking up the length of it a few inches and twisting back down. He traces the ridges on the top and commits to memory each sound and twitch every section draws out of Molly.

Molly is positively squirming now. He grabs Caleb's other wrist to guide his palm to Molly's dick, and when Caleb presses down without being told, Molly whines.

It's incredible, really, the transformation of this Molly from the always-collected tiefling with a smart remark for every occasion. Now he can hardly string together a few words, and even then, only something to spur Caleb on for his own pleasure. Though it's probably a purely physical response more to do with the stimulation than the person doing it, Caleb feels a strange power course through him.

Caleb moves the hand that is not currently trapped by the tail to take Molly's jaw and less-than-gently direct him to meet his gaze. Mollymauk seems to have difficulty keeping his eyes open enough to look at Caleb, but when he does, he must see something in his eyes worth looking at. Molly flushes a darker purple and licks his lips with that forked tongue. Caleb wonders for a moment why Molly doesn't just take the initiative and kiss Caleb and be done with it. After a moment, though, he gives up on trying to think it through. There are much more pressing matters he might attend to, such as kissing Molly senseless himself and shoving his thigh between Molly's legs.

When he finds the courage to trace his thumb underneath Molly's tail, centimeters away from his asshole, Molly seems like he's about to lose it. "Oh, Caleb," he hisses, tossing his head back and narrowly missing the wall. Caleb can't kiss his lips at that angle, but his instincts guide him seamlessly into mouthing at Molly's throat instead.

Molly hooks one leg up around the inside of Caleb's knee. "Caleb, you've got to--please--fuck, I'm dying here." He forcefully ruts up against Caleb's thigh. It's an angle he probably can't sustain, but it does remind Caleb that he had rather rudely taken the one hand away from where Molly had put it.

There is nothing to do but put it back. Molly has already undone the laces of his pants, so it's easy for Caleb to get Mollymauk's dick in his hand. He shoves Molly's pants down a little further so he can get a look at what he's holding.

He's seen Molly's dick before, as recently as last night, but like this? It's incredible. It's pierced and ridged, flushed a darker purple than the flaccid state he's seen before. Caleb would love to study it, with his eyes and hands and mouth. He very much hopes to get the opportunity.

Mollymauk's hands scrabble at the wall behind him, his head still thrown back to the point that his horns press into the stone. He fucks up into Caleb's hand desperately, whining with each motion Caleb makes to trace the ridges and toy experimentally with the piercing. He keeps pouring out a litany of "Caleb, Caleb, _Caleb_ ," and they're not even done but Caleb already wants to do this again, as often as possible.

Molly mutters something in Infernal, but it lacks the venom of his vicious mockery. It still sounds harsh to Caleb's ears, but everyone says Zemnian sounds angry when he has found it to be nothing but cute and playful. At any rate, Molly must be terribly close.

"Your stamina has already proven impressive compared to mine. You are allowed to come now, schatz." Caleb doesn't know where it came from, but he says it anyway. It must work for Molly, because he obeys immediately.

Caleb works Molly through until Molly touches his wrist, which Caleb somehow immediately knows is a sign to stop. Caleb wipes his hand carelessly on his pants, and then Molly has his face in both hands and is kissing Caleb like he's water in the desert.

"Fuck, Caleb," he says yet again, babbled between kisses and sloppy flicks of tongue. "You're incredible, gods but I loved that, I didn't think you'd be so--we have to do this again. As soon as possible. Gods, Caleb."

A smile twitches around Caleb's mouth. "Is now good?" he asks, and Molly glances down to find Caleb hard again. He has the gall to look surprised, as if Caleb could possibly stay soft through the show Molly just put on.

"Mister Caleb," Molly says, winding his tail around Caleb's waist. "I think this might be the start of something beautiful."


End file.
